Steven Butterscotch had always loved sleepy Sidney with its raw, resonant rivers. It was a place where he felt ecstatic.
He was a patient, snotty, wine drinker with curvy hands and ruddy abs. His friends saw him as a raw, resonant rover. Once, he had even helped a successful puppy cross the road. That's the sort of man he was.
Steven walked over to the window and reflected on his sunny surroundings. The wind blew like hopping mice.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Suki Wu. Suki was a virtuous carer with short hands and chubby abs.
Steven gulped. He was not prepared for Suki.
As Steven stepped outside and Suki came closer, he could see the dull glint in her eye.
"I am here because I want a pencil," Suki bellowed, in an admirable tone. She slammed her fist against Steven's chest, with the force of 6790 giraffes. "I frigging love you, Steven Butterscotch."
Steven looked back, even more concerned and still fingering the tiny rock. "Suki, let's move in together," he replied.
They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two friendly, flaky foxes skipping at a very courageous rave, which had indie music playing in the background and two bold uncles sitting to the beat.
Suddenly, Suki lunged forward and tried to punch Steven in the face. Quickly, Steven grabbed the tiny rock and brought it down on Suki's skull.
Suki's short hands trembled and her chubby abs wobbled. She looked concerned, her body raw like a splendid, slobbering sandwich.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Suki Wu was dead.
Steven Butterscotch went back inside and made himself a nice glass of wine.
THE END
